#and simultaneously hurting my stomach

[megumiluvv]

I cannot breathe through my nose. #cancelallergies

[skoulsons]

his hand being across the middle of her back and you can see the tips of his fingers. am i losing it or am i losing it.

[skyward-floored]

oog okay now I’m regretting staying up ridiculously late

[bassforte]

So glad my uterus decided it wanted to kill me right before im to start the most tiring part of my current job position.

[meetthesoldier]

do you ever get so insane about something you run out of ways to talk about it without resorting to an absolute gut punch of a sentence. anyways nortnaib are kismeses

[gray-wednesday]

[grasscore]

periods.. should stop

[nobodyputsbabyinacorner]

I exist against my will and one day I shall find the god that made it so and fuck them up

[mysindividual]

Unknowingly, he admits | Aaron Hotchner

MASTERLIST

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem liaison reader

summary: another late night at the FBI meant you were once again buried in paperwork at Hotch’s office. But tonight, something was off—you were unusually quiet and distracted, a rare sight that caught Aaron’s attention. Intrigued, when he gets his answer, he tries to stop you from making that very same mistake, but doesn’t realise it’s for his own selfish reasons.

warnings: age gap, boss x subordinate, ex talk, mentions of divorce, Hotch being hot and reader is all (๑♡ .̫ ♡๑) once again

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!

"Straight through the glass door, then right." You stood at the entrance, signalling with your hand, explaining to the man who miraculously managed to get lost to your office.

"Oh, thank you." He turned to look at you once more, a mischievous but beautiful grin plastered across his face. "By the way, I'm Agent Nathaniel Smith."

He reached forward to shake your hand when you replied, "SSA Y/N. Nice to meet you."

Once he took off, you leaned on a door frame of your office, arms crossed over your chest. Then bobbing your head to the side, your gaze followed after the man as you admitted he was even better looking from behind.

Tight handshake, round from behind…

Pouting, you nodded at the thought.

"You meant Soft Spot Aaron’s (SSA) Y/N." A familiar voice came out of nowhere, humming in your ear. You jumped in your place, looked at him over you shoulder and rolled your eyes. Entering the office, Derek came in after you.

"What's up kiddo, you're not in the mood? You didn't like my friend Nathaniel there?" He teased, beaming widely, and pointing his thumb towards the exit where the man had left. You looked at him under your brows as you slumped back in your chair.

"What do you want, Derek?" You answered with a tinge of annoyance in your tone.

"Ah, that hurt." His hand on his heart feigning pain. With one leg propped on the edge, he perched himself on the table, enjoying a sip of coffee from his black FBI cup. You’d enjoy some coffee too. "Tell me, what's bothering you?"

"Ah, Derek..." You breathed out, leaning back in your chair, looking at the ceiling, fingers knitted at your stomach. "I don't think you want to hear that.”

He raised an eyebrow. "That bad? You know that’s my jam, I’m all ears, baby."

Deliberately raising your brow at him, you straightened in your seat and rolled your chair towards the table. “Really?”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Wanna make a bet?”

“Sure I do, lil pumpkin.”

When you expressed a sense of superiority through a subtle yet discernible smirk, it wouldn’t be a lie were you to say that panic sprang through Derek’s eyes. So you quickly added, “Game on.”

~

Not long after Derek stormed out of your office, repeating ‘No, no, no!’ more to himself than you — either because he just lost money or because of the thing you’d told him — Hotch appeared at your door. You didn’t notice him, slumped back in your chair, one leg across the other, your hands playing with a pen.

If it weren’t for the two knocks against the door frame you wouldn’t have even noticed him.

You straightened your back, sitting more appropriately.

“Are you ready?” He inquired, his eyebrows inched upward as he looked upon you.

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.” Even through the smile that quirked on your lips at the sight of him, your eyes held the smallest hints of concern.

──────────────────────

"Is everything ok?" His voice, simultaneously stern and gentle, pierced through the hush that crept inside his office’s walls.

"Huh?" You hesitated, completely engrossed in the paperwork you were completing. It wouldn't be incorrect to say that you had no idea how you had managed to do it properly when your thoughts were occupied by something else. You were pleased when Hotch finally did speak and directed your attention towards him. Towards something that potentially could brighten your mood. “Yes?”

“Yes,” he replied, maintaining eye contact with you. “You've been unusually quiet."

You arched an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be an insult?" Leaning back, you took a moment to escape all the work and overwhelming thoughts. "Are you suggesting I talk too much?"

Hotch recognised that small smile of yours, small but enough to encourage anyone — to rouse him.

Hotch knew you.

He responded in his very recognisable calm and professional voice. “That's what you said."

It felt like you two were having this conversation recently, but now the roles had been switched.

"Truth." You leaned in towards the table, reaching for the pen. "No, everything is fine."

But that itch in your head didn't give you peace, and you didn't have the will or enough concentration to continue working any longer with that on your mind, so you blurted out.

You sighed, running a hand over your face. “You remember Brad?”

You said it without even knowing why, perhaps because you needed someone to confide in without fear of judgment. Was Aaron Hotchner really that person? Anyway, there was no going back now.

“Brad?” Hotch furrowed, only a hint of a confusion gracing his features before realisation kicked in. “Brad.” He repeated his name blankly, then leaned back in his chair.

Perhaps not.

Of course Aaron knew your ex-boyfriend Brad. Everyone did. And no one liked him.

Well, they were kind of right.

The reason you'd been a bit absent — and why Derek stormed out of your office earlier — was because of your ex-boyfriend. A couple days ago, following your conversation with Hotch regarding his divorce, you got a message on your cell phone. Unknown number. Before even reading the whole message, you had quite a good laugh once you read Brad’s name signed at the end of it. Apparently, he wanted to see you. Of course, you would not consent in meeting him even in a state of madness.

But, having a mutual friend was never a good idea. Brad showed up at the bar last night while you were out with said friend. You were initially just being sarcastic, the irony was coming through. But as time went by, somehow Brad managed to soften you through conversation and touch.

The thought made your skin crawl.

“Yeah… That.very -same -Brad.” You spoke in a hushed tone, your voice quivering as you glanced sideways. Everywhere except Hotch. Suddenly, saying it out loud to Hotch wasn’t your best plan. You were almost too shy admitting it. Or rather, admitting it to him. Saying it out loud made Aaron's presence in your chaos feel intimate and somewhat intrusive.

And why?

It was not the first time you two talked about personal lives, dammit, it wasn’t even a hundredth time! You had spent countless days and nights working together, on cases and press conferences, bars and restaurants with the rest of the team, and talked everything out of your lives.

Yet somehow this felt different.

Was it because you were talking about potential someone in your life? Or were you ashamed of admitting to Hotch you were even considering going back to that fool? Were you actually confessing to Aaron Hotchner himself — your boss — it had been a while since you had someone, that you had been that lonely and… needy?

Ugh.

Nonetheless, Aaron could sense the irony and uncertainty as you replied. He toyed with the pen, shaking it slightly in between his index and middle finger as his other hand held his hip.

The things he unknowingly did to you…

“And what does that very same Brad want? To reconcile?”

You quickly looked up at him again.

“I…” you opened your mouth, but the words died on your tongue. His brows were drawn together in a sympathetic concern, his eyes glowed with an inexplicable intensity… Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Did he actually care? To think anything else might have been in question would be insane. But Hotch’d always been protective over everyone in his team, and you were one of them. And no one ever liked Brad, so the stare he had been giving you made perfect sense. “Well… yes. Apparently.”

“And you are distracted by that why exactly?” There was no change in his even voice as he observed you, shifting his head from one side to other. The dim lighting coming from his desk lamp cast dancing shadow across his face.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about reconciling with…” He halted in self-control, exhaling as his eyes slowly closed and opened. Fatigue washed over him, Aaron concluded. Regardless, he wouldn’t want his professional facade off, at least not when such a topic was in talk. “Very same Brad.”

You would have almost laughed at that, but only managed to smile and shake your head. Brad was not it, you knew that. And yet you were still thinking about it, and why, you wouldn’t know. You didn’t have the answer. Maybe you were bored, or perhaps tired of waiting for someone right to come your way.

It’d been a long time since you had a proper date, to be quite frank. One that didn’t end up in you yawning your boredom away, having Penelope fake call you to leave, having to really leave for work, and so on. It had been depressing to say the least.

You didn’t have anyone or anything planned in your love life for months. The only thing going on in that field (if one could even consider it that) was the crush you had had on Hotch that was somehow worse than pms’ mood swings. One day you liked him, the next day you wanted to rip his hair out. You also knew Hotch was within the reach, and considering and hoping something might have happen with the two of you was equal to hoping for snow in the middle of July somewhere in south Italy.

Your crush on him was there just to spice up your boring day.

Or so you thought most of the time.

“I knew you guys wouldn’t approve. You never liked him.” Is all you said, beaming widely at Aaron. He, of course, didn’t miss the hints of sadness either in your voice. It bothered you for whatever reason that much that you hadn’t been acting all giggly like your usual self.

Aaron’s eyes darkened as he leaned forward, his elbows on the edge of his table, his hands drawn together in front of him. “And you… like him?” The tone he spoke in was low and measured, almost intimate.

The tone that felt like a caress.

The gaze that made you feel like you were made of glass and he was too focused to let it drop.

You gulped.

“I- I don’t know.” You whispered through a nervous smile.

You lied. You knew that, Hotch knew that. And the thought of that pinched at your heart.

Some mistakes were just not worth making twice.

“If you are asking about my opinion… which I suppose you might not, but I can’t sit here and watch you make that mistake. But of course, this is about you and what you want.”

To Hotch, this was completely normal. It was almost like a friend helping a friend, or rather a boss advising his subordinate. After all, you were there for him when he needed company — when he parted his path with Haley. So, no, nothing unusual.

Everyone on the team disliked Brad. When she first got on the team, she was in relationship with Brad. They’d been together for three years, Aaron remembered. But not long after joining the team, they split up. Even back then everyone cheered her on and told her it was the right thing to do. Everyone except him, but the reason was that she was a newbie at the time, so of course he didn’t want to pry. Now, it was different… somehow.

“I know you don’t think he changed, you are not naive. But do you think it’s worth it?” His gaze assessed you for a moment before his dark eyebrows lifted, pausing briefly before he continued gingerly. “Does he notice the way you bite inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from saying something you might regret? Or the way you play with your earring when you’re not really paying attention, lost in your own schemes? That stress and all the pictures that come through your desk make you reach for favorite snack in comfort? Or that you smile the most when you have the most in your head?”

Silence.

Brad was suddenly long gone from your brain. The words Hotch spoke made a vertigo in your head, lying to you that there was more to it than it seemed. But at the moment nothing was more important than those little lies he you fed yourself with.

But then your gaze fell upon his hand.

The wedding ring still firmly and warmly hugged his finger making your heart drop.

Hope is the joy of a fool, so they say.

Not that you desired him to divorce Haley. Never. It just reminded you that Haley was and would still be a huge part in his life, and nothing, nothing could ever happen between the two of you. He would always love Haley. So it was indeed a good reminder to keep your head cool, your expectations zero.

His eyes averted for a second or two before he looked up at you again, adding softly — in his voice a mix of gentleness and playfulness. “Or the way your eyes get big and dark when you plead…”

A softness came over your features, a semblance of a smile gently flickered onto your lips. “You know about that?”

Hotch gave you a look that said “Of course I know about that”.

Busted, you nodded. “Of course you do.”

He sighed softly, his face showing exhaustion, a craving for care and an opportunity to relax.

“Now, I know it’s the whole point of our job. To profile people. To notice such things about others, but… Our other half should be just as considerate and aware of us. And I believe you deserve better.”

As he breathed the last words out, he leaned back, his head resting on the back of his chair, the almost see-through fabric of his shirt hugging his broad shoulders. Reaching up his collar, he unbuttoned the shirt — not very chastely as thought it were suffocating him, and loosened his tie.

It was suddenly getting warm with everything he had on his mind — work, fatigue and insomnia, Haley and Jack, divorce, you…

Yeah, you also.

As he closed his eyes, something between a sigh and a moan escaped his throat.

And while all this was happening in front of your eyes, you were practically melting in your seat at the sound he made, at the sight in front of you. You gaped at your boss unashamedly, as if you were hypnotised, your lips slightly parting and only then feeling the dryness of them. You swallowed, wishing you could drink in that sight of him. Oh, you so wanted to… many things. You envisioned getting up from your chair, leaving a trail on his table with your fingers as you made your way towards him before settling down onto his lap and leaving kisses up his jaw.

“Hotch…” you called out absent-mindedly, slowly, as though the words left you without your consent, still very lost in your imagination. “You are right. I deserve something far better than him.”

Not really hearing what you had said, he winced back, eyes and hands searching for a file on his desk. “We should get back to work. I need you to take a look at this report on the press conference you held in Kansas City.”

Trying to shake off that picture in your head, you reached for the document he held for you and put it down on the table. The letters were mix of some unknown words, your eyes only skimming over the files.

If concentrating was hard before, now it was completely impossible.

Sneaking a small look at him, you contemplated about the words he said just minutes ago.

You weren’t stupid — you were aware he’d have to pick up a few ticks and tells of yours and everyone’s on the team, but did he then also know about your silly little crush, and how attracted to him you were? Had he been profiling you all this time like he profiled the unsubs? Did he go in depths into his profiling of you? The thought made your heart squeeze in regret of some not-so-appropriate thoughts and actions you had done.

But then again, deep down you knew he didn’t. It didn’t make sense. Things would have been way different between the two of you had he known.

At last you concluded it was all right.

And that was when you realised he was right.

You had been fidgeting with your earring! Quickly stopping, cursing yourself inside, you took the paper in your hand, giving your best to concentrate and read.

You didn’t even notice you’d had that tick, Brad knew even less.

But Hotch knew. The thought made your heart waltz inside your chest, it was almost too hard not to smile.

But what you also missed was that Hotch had seen your actions causing a quick, but not small smile spread across his lips.

“So I thought we don’t profile each others,” you added, pretending to had been reading the report as silence had spread between you two. “And you say I’m not naive.”

Looking up at him under your brows, you didn’t expect he would have already welcomed you with a biggest grin you’d ever seen on him.

You both chuckled out loud, shaking your heads.

“I didn’t profile you…”

“Aha, aha.” You spoke over him, pretending you didn’t want to listen, like you didn’t believe him. “So you’ve said.”

“When you spend time with someone, you have to notice…”

Long into the night, soft chuckles and small voices could be heard outside of his dimly lit office.

A profiler never misses.

Or that was an excuse he said to himself.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shoulder II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: They're all hoverers

Sometimes, you think that your family can do no wrong.

Your mothers are loving. Your girlfriend adores you. Everyone gets on with each other, even though Magda and Talia pretend they don't.

Other times, you just want to live alone somewhere on an island with no other people around to fuss over you.

"Are you sure you don't want me to adjust your sling?" Talia asks, lips pursed in thought," I saw you wincing a second ago."

"I was wincing because my painkillers are wearing off."

After your win with Lyon, you had decided to travel back to Sweden with your mothers to finish off your recovery there. You'd told Talia to just return to Spain, to make the most of her days off from football before joining up with the Spanish team.

She'd refused and insisted on coming with you to make sure you're okay.

Nearly a week in now and all three of them were driving you up the wall.

"Should I get you more?" Her girlfriend asks and you roll your eyes, leaning forward to peck her cheek.

"You're sweet, Talia," You say," But I can't take anymore for at least another hour."

She pouts. "Is there nothing I can do to help? Do you want some food or something?"

"No food!" You hear Pernille shout from the kitchen," This is almost done!"

You rolls your eyes.

She's been slaving away on the stove since you woke up.

She'd already had breakfast prepared and lunch already prepped and ready to be cooked. She's making it now but she's also been making it for the past hour now.

You're pretty sure she's cooking dinner simultaneously but you're not too sure. That's the only reason it could be taking this long.

"Are you sure?" You ask," Not even a little snack?"

"No," Pernille says," Just a few more minutes."

You're a little worried, truthfully.

As a child, Magda had always been the one cooking the big meals and Pernille helped by doing little things like putting broccoli in the oven or taking the meat out when asked.

So, you're a little apprehensive at what Pernille's cooking now.

You hope someone gave her a recipe to follow rather than letting her make something that appeared in her head.

"Here," Magda says, appearing at your other side," To tide you over."

A handful of magic stars are placed in your hands.

You used to love these as a kid but they were only ever really bought when you went to the cinema because you never liked popcorn.

You don't know where Magda bought them in Sweden but you're grateful as you throw them into your mouth.

You think Pernille thinks you're going to ruin your lunch, like you're a little kid again that has eyes bigger than her stomach.

It's sweet, you think but a little annoying.

"Have some more," Magda says, shaking more from the bag straight into your hands," You need to keep your strength up."

"I hurt my arm-"

"Dislocated it," Talia corrects.

"-I'm not sick."

"Having chocolate doesn't have anything to do with sickness," Magda says," It's just making sure you have energy."

"You're hovering," You tease and Magda makes an offended noise.

"If I'm hovering then what's Talia doing?!"

"Hovering," You deadpan," You're both hovering."

"We're making sure you're okay," Talia says," You'd fault us for that?"

"No," You say," I fault you for being so overbearing about it. If I feel bad or if I ache or if I need some comfort, I can tell you. Don't you trust me?"

Talia's expression softens a little and she smiles.

"Yeah. I trust you."

"And Morsa?" You say, turning to Magda," Do you trust me too?"

Magda purses her lips, not responding for a few seconds. "I..." She sighs. "Yeah but you have to tell us, alright? No trying to deal with it on your own."

You roll your eyes. "Fine."

"Good girl," Magda says, a sot kiss pressed to your temple.

"Alright." Pernille appears out of nowhere. "Lunch is served!"

It smells alright, the soup that has taken her an hour to make.

You force down a spoonful.

It's horrifically salty.

"How is it?" Pernille asks.

You force a smile onto your face.

"It's amazing."

[helluvapoison]

Nice To Eat You

[ii]

The Vees x Cannibal!Reader

warnings: drugs, suggestive, rosie slander, dark themes, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism

heads up: if you didn’t know, the people of cannibal town are hellborn; born in hell, never lived on earth, never sinned! their life spans are unknown(?) but seem to age as a human would, unlike other demons

Cannibal town has been off limits to The Vees, courtesy of Vox, ever since the incident with you know who. Meeting you was a suspicious surprise for them. You were kicked out of said town by Rosie for giving cannibals a bad name. Can you fucking believe the irony!?

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧��

• Suspicious might be an understatement

• For the longest time, Vox is unnerved by you for every other reason than your appetite. Anyone associated with Rosie is an adversary by proxy. If you take Alastor out of the picture, Rosie is still an Overlord and all Overlords will inevitably crumble to The Vees– even if they don’t know it yet

• There’s an expression for that though, isn’t there? Keep your enemies close. That’s exactly how Vox went about dealing with you

• Gives you a job as his security guard. Hell knows he needs one, what with the price of fame and all, those dirty fucking sinners that try and touch him wherever he goes

• It’s a slow development because neither of you initiate conversation

• Vox is beyond used to the rotating door of demons in and out of his life. He abandons the names of anyone that isn’t you, Velvette or Valentino (Angel Dust and Alastor he can’t forget against his will)

• Becoming attached to you while simultaneously waiting for the other shoe to drop is fucking awful. It feels it like a bug in his system, annoys him to the point his screen starts glitching one day

“Just what the fuck are you up to!? I know you’re with Rosie–”

You knew, on some level, Vox didn’t trust you all the way but it didn’t bother you because he hardly seems to trust anyone. So you cut him off with a mix of a snort and a scoff,

“Rosie? Rosie’s a cunt. She gave me the boot years ago, haven't seen her since.”

Involuntarily, he begins to smile, “Years, huh?”

• Trust is another slow endeavor. Now that Vox doubts your motives slightly less than before, he can silently appreciate the fact you do a damn good job of keeping demons away from him. Bonus: if you happen to take a chunk out of them for shits and giggles, blood never touches his pristine self

• “I believe I owe you an apology,”

“Am I going to get one?”

• In a way, sure, but you’ll be sorely disappointed if you thought it was with words. He invites you to dinner. From that moment until you arrive at the restaurant, he’s reveling in the constant state of shock you seem to be in

• Your eyebrows jump when the waiter nervously lifts the lid from your plate and reveals ribs. Real, demon ribs

“Surprised?” Vox asks rather smugly

“Somewhat,” You return his sly smirk, “Most can’t stomach my… indulgences.”

“I don’t have a stomach. I think I’ll be just fine.”

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Vel doesn’t give two steaming shits about Rosie or her backwards, unflattering town so long as it doesn’t interfere with her enterprise. Vox’s grudges are his own. If The Vees got hellbent and demented over each other’s EOTD (Enemy Of The Day) nothing would get done!

• During a pathetic comment war on the her social, a few threats became too detailed for Vox’s liking

• A cannibal wasn’t his first choice– or second, or third– but you’d certainly scare off anyone trying to hurt his business partner!

• Velvette’s far from worried about being lunch when she meets you.

• “You’re my–? No. Absolutely not! I can’t be seen with this.” She gestures to all of you

“You’re not exactly making me drool either,” You mutter under your breath

• Judging by the looks of her partners’ faces, stunning Velvette to silence was impossible. Key word: was

• It didn’t last long and hasn’t stopped since

• She pulled out every trick in the book to get you to quit. She gave you a uniform to wear during your shifts, tossed fabrics at you until you turned into a living clothes rack, forced you to hold her phone during her live streams but criticized and berated the way you did

• For fucks sake, she even screamed at Vox to let her fire you!

• You didn’t need her to like you and that was as obvious as it was infuriating. She was Velvette! Everyone loved her! Having you around was like a black eye; literally bruising her ego and bad for business

• Or so she thought

• She made you stand in the shadows of her studio so you wouldn’t frighten anyone and ruin photoshoots with your “freaky face” she so eloquently put it.

• Velvette was mid fashion crisis, yelling at Joanne for the gazillionth time, when you approached from behind

“I’m taking my lunch.”

“Fucking fantastic! Here, have Joanne since she insists on being fucking useless!”

Playing along, you let a guttural growl rip from your throat, making Joanne jump high in the air.

She squeaked and shook her head vigorously, holding her hands in surrender, “I-I’ll be better, I swear!”

• Her candy cane eyes widened in delighted surprise. How had she been so blind to your potential usefulness!?

• Velvette could get high off the new game she created with you. It was like having a scary guard dog– only better dressed to aesthetics. Paparazzi didn’t dare touch her now, standing at a respectable distance that made her more unattainable and desirable than before

• Her attitude change makes her like-able to you too, she’s heaps more pleasant to be around now. You don’t mind doing the extra stuff that wasn’t in your contract like being a dress up doll, dealing with the pet names or escorting her to events. She knows and takes advantage of this instead of saying how she feels

• “You’re my arm candy now, dollface! You go where I go.”

“I hardly think I qualify as arm candy,” You mumble to her, overtly aware of how she holds you close to her

“If you’re fishing for compliments, fuck off to another pond. I don’t waste my free time with uggos,” She says seriously, abruptly smiling as a camera flashes in her direction, “Now get ready. Fans have been dying to get a picture with me lately and if anyone smudges this dress with their dirty fucking fingers, I want you to bite them off!”

“Anyone that touches you won’t have hands tomorrow,” You promise

• You swear she shivers upon hearing that

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The easiest by far to get along with. In a mortifying way

• Val is fairly accepting of all Hell’s creatures. It’s typically followed up by something sexual but, hey, you’re not in a position to complain, not when no one else in Hell would willingly sign up to work with a cannibal. Especially one outside the confines of Rosie’s civil town

• Rosie’s loss is his gain

• You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting him to turn horror-struck but he barely blinks when you explain what you did to get exiled. Your savage methods intrigue him, a plethora of potentials just waiting to be explored. In fact, he goes a step further to praise you for being different

• “Hell would be deathly boring if everyone thought the same way, darling. That’s what makes you so… alluring.” He rolled his tongue with the last word, dragging it out and making it ring in your ears

• You’d been called many things in your afterlife, but never that

• You feel rather useless at the moth’s side. You were supposed to be protecting him but he could take care of himself just fine. Val was about the tallest in every room (if not the tallest) with guns hidden under his coat that he never used

• Later you’d understand he only reached for them as a last resort, when his head was unclouded by blood lust

• If you ever voiced your complaints, he’d be quick to reassure you that you make him look good. What powerful Overlord doesn’t have bodyguards? (Do. Not. Answer.)

• However the day does come when you prove your services have merit. On set of all places! A coked up Hellhound didn’t take kindly to Val’s directions, sending a demon wielding a boom mic flying towards him

• Valentino dodged the demon with ease, whipping around and aiming his pistol to put the dog down. Instead he saw you pushing the mutt’s face into the ground, his arm pinned at an angle. Your sharp teeth were bared at his throat, drool dampening his fur

• But you made no moves without Valentino’s say-so

• There’s a lot he could say about the scenario you provided him and how it made him feel– but he only calls your name, beckoning you back to his side

• Where you belong

• “You’re lucky I don’t like hair in my food,” You growl in the Hellhound’s ear before following after Val

• Valentino may be a mastermind of porn and sex but he knows the real way to a demon’s heart, it’s is the universal love language

• Unbothered by blood, he’ll sit pretty and poised on his loveseat while you tear into the meal he provided you. A thanks for a job well done

• “You’ll never go hungry now that you’re with me, monstruo,” The pet name is dripping with adoration, “I won’t waste you like that bitch did. Look at you, you’re already so special.”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ i lost the request that went to this but i hope it reaches them. cannibal!reader got that rizz, huh?

[mistiell]

If you’re doing requests and it’s not too much trouble what about Astarion and getting patched up and taken care of by mc

Here you go babes <33 (Also, if he's a little out of character, I apoligize, I really did try my best lol) WC: 1k

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“Ow! Gods, could you at least try to be gentle?” Astarion hisses at the sting of the salve you’ve concocted, startling you into jerking the cloth you’re using away.

You huff and drop your hands into your lap, brows furrowed in very clear annoyance, “I am trying. If you’d stop squirming, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Well, if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming, would I?” He quips. You roll your eyes.

Taking his wrist ever so gently, you turn it so you can see the gash on his forearm, fingers deft and kind even despite his whining. He’s being difficult; unreasonable. You’d be justified in being cruel with him.

You’re careful not to press so hard as you swipe the cloth over the jagged edge of his wound, blood seeping into the fabric and staining the off-white linen a dark crimson. Mouth quirked down, your face is drawn tight with a frustration he’s never seen on you before.

He hates it.

The fabric catches with a jolt of pain and he flinches more than he would normally, startling you away again.

You tut at him, stern, “Astarion.”

Sighing, he returns his arm to you wordlessly and glances away with a small, “Sorry.”

“You should have been more careful.” You chastise as you press the cloth against his wound; firm, but not harsh. Never harsh.

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, “So you're saying this is my fault.”

He wasn’t being serious, but it seems you take it as such. Your nose scrunches, and for a split second, you look properly upset with him. He’s expecting you to snap at him, maybe shout and finally leave him to tend to his wounds alone as he usually would.

You don’t. Instead, you take a breath and sigh, looking rather disappointed.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Contrary to what you may believe, I do actually care about you and your wellbeing.” Your voice is void of any sort of humour as you look back at his arm. Swapping the soiled cloth for a smaller, cleaner one, you fold it in half and press it to his arm, not sparing him a glance as you instruct him, “Hold this.”

He does as you’ve asked, and a stifling silence engulfs his tent. As you rifle through some healing supplies, he tries to come up with a way to get you talking again.

“Why-,” His voice doesn’t come out right and he clears his throat to fix it. It comes out wrong anyway, “Why are you helping me? This wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve dressed a wound on my own, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” You reply as you begin securing the cloth to his arm with bandages, “No one deserves to suffer alone.”

The sentiment makes his stomach twist. “No one?” He huffs a wry puff of laughter, “Not even someone like Cazador?”

Your face contorts in abhorrence, “I meant good people don’t deserve to suffer alone. That bastard deserves every bit of suffering he has coming to him.”

He barely even registers the second part of what you’ve said, too busy reeling from the first.

Good people don’t deserve to suffer alone.

Good people.

“You... think I’m good?” He asks far too softly.

Finally looking back up at him, you look utterly confused as you nod, “Of course I do.”

He opens his mouth only to find he’s seemingly lost his voice. His gaze flits over just about every inch of your face, searching for any sign that you’re lying; a glance away, a twitch of your mouth. Anything.

He doesn’t find one. His heart sinks and sings simultaneously and suddenly, he can barely breathe.

“Why?” He murmurs. Part of him thinks he’s not equipped to cope with your answer.

There’s a moment where you just... look at him. He’d say staring, but he doesn’t think that’s quite what this is. What you’re doing would be better described as seeing him; all of him. His heart, his soul. Everything.

“Good people can do bad things and still be good, Astarion. And being good doesn’t always mean being a saint.” Your voice is kind; tender. Maybe a little joking towards the end. He guesses you’ve seen the apprehension on his face when your hands slide down his arm to cradle his own. Dipping to catch his gaze, your own is suddenly serious; unwavering, “What happened to you, the things you did. None of that was your fault. You told me what Cazador did to you when you disobeyed him. I’d be just as terrible to deem you a monster for going along with it knowing what would have happened to you if you didn’t.”

Your words strike him like a hard blow to the chest. Perhaps he’s not all that concerned with being a good person, but he’s never truly wanted to be evil, either.

Eyes stinging, he lets out a shaky breath through his nose as he cups the nape of your neck to guide your forehead to his lips. He lingers there for a moment before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, mumbling against your hairline, “Thank you.”

Snaking your arms around his waist, you squeeze him just as fiercely, “Of course, my love.”

The laugh that escapes him comes out too watery for his liking, but he finds he doesn’t mind quite as much when its only you around to hear, “‘My love’? Isn’t that my line?”

You snort, and he feels you smile against his collar, “Perhaps.” “You do know that reusing material that isn’t yours is in poor taste, don’t you, darling?”

“Hush.” You pull back smiling, shaking your head as you ask in faux exasperation, “Now, will you please let me finish bandaging this?”

He follows your gaze to his arm and huffs dramatically, “I suppose.” “Oh, you suppose, do you?” You sass as you take hold of his wrist again, careful not to wrap the bandages too tight, “Do you also suppose you’ll sit still for me this time?”

“I do.” He grins.

And he does.

[amourisms]

souvenir sent me to heaven, if you’re taking requests i’d love to see a part 2 or another wally one shot. you’re amazing! <3

tease.

summary : who knew wally was so sentimental about his souvenirs?

pairing : wally west x fem!reader

warnings : oral ( f rec ), gag used, fingering, dirty talk, wallys a bit nasty in this one, vibrator ( its him ), edging, begging.

wc : 2k

a/n : been meaning to get around to this for a while hope you enjoy ily

read part one here !

this. this was a golden opportunity, and now all you had to do was wait for wally to get back. you were only snooping around his room to find a mission file but what you uncovered was so much better.

it wasn't long before wally came back zipping all around the place, before finally stopping in his bedroom. if he was shocked to see you, he didn't show it. instead he only asked, "what are you doing in my room?" your hands were placed behind your back holding your little discovery and a shit-eating grin was plastered on your face that you couldn't control. "better question is… what was this doing under your pillow?" you asked teasingly, removing your hands behind your back and waving your panties in front of his face. the same panties he stole from you as a souvenir. your relationship with wally stayed unchanged for the most of it, but ever since the kitchen incident you hadn't stopped thinking about it. about him.

it hadn't been long but neither of you hardly said a word to each other since, and you had just assumed he was indifferent to what happened. but this? this truly was something else, and you'd be damned if you weren't going to act all smug about it. "wallace west, the honourable kid flash," you stretched out the word as you stepped closer, "tell me, what do you do with these?"

his lips were pursed together and his eyes flickered around in thought before he answered, "you want the honest answer or some bullshit one?" you didn't even need to open your mouth as a slight tilt of your head and darkened glare said all he need to know. "well if you reaaally want to know," he stepped closer, "its my favourite souvenir. keep it under my pillow for safekeeping and easy access" he says nonchalantly. you try to hide the shock enveloping your features but ultimately he noticed it faster than you did. "you're horrible," you tell him with a reluctant smile on your face. "horrible? i haven't even told you what i do with them yet." he says feigning hurt.

"i rub them all over my cock," he steps closer, "i think about your hands all over me, the way you said my name, how you looked on your knees" he steps closer, "how fucking heavenly you felt." your breath hitches in your throat, and its only then you realised you've been trapped between him and his bed. his hands find a home on your hips, which made you melt enough for your brain to ditch any remaining self control you had left. he embraces your lips messily, like all his self control had been thrown to the wind as well.

before you can wrap your arms around his neck he pushes you back onto the bed with zero warning. before you can get mad at him, wally climbs on top of you and starts kissing on your neck. somehow, he simultaneously manages to remove your clothes as he continues kissing down your body. his fingers hook under the waistband of your shorts, being sure to leave your underwear on. he speaks through the kisses on your stomach, "might need another souvenir." although the idea soaks his precious souvenir even more you lightly smack his arm in rebuttal to his words, "at this rate, i won't have any panties left to wear."

you can feel his smile on your skin as his hands finally move to remove your underwear. he lifts his head up, only just slightly, so you can see his piercing green eyes as he speaks, "i told you i like easy access." once he finally gets the pair off, he holds them up proudly, "such a gorgeous pair, babe, don't you think we should put them to good use?" and with that he wasted no time in stuffing them in your mouth.

before you could protest, he began to lazily drag his tongue over your cunt eliciting a soft whimper from you. it wasn't long before he began focusing on your clit, overwhelming sensations taking over your entire body. when he added a finger into the mix of it all, inserting it in your hole and gradually adding another, your hand couldn't help but grip onto his hair. your body felt out of your control as your thighs clamped around his face. now it was your turn to trap him in, and just as you didn't mind he didn't either. in fact, he wished he could stay between your legs forever.

you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, but wally was keeping you on the edge. you tried telling him you needed to come but it all came out as inaudible mumbles. "whats that?" he asked sarcastically as his fingers remained working you up. you groaned and whimpered in response bucking your hips into his hand as further indication to what you wanted. "just tell me what you want," he tells you with a fake softness, "i can't give it to you until you ask." god, you hated wally west. even if your body showed the opposite.

as his fingers worked relentlessly inside you, it only got you more and more frustrated. he watched you in awe as you whined and wriggled underneath him, trying so badly to chase your high. in a fit of annoyance, you ended up ripping out your makeshift gag yourself and with wally's fingers slowing down in reaction you could swear you'd throw him into a wall. if only his hair wasn't so messy and tousled, and his eyes weren't so cunning, and his lips weren't curved into such a calculating smirk, and his face wasn't covered in your own juices. maybe you actually would've. instead you gave up with a sigh of defeat before softly whispering, "please, 'needa cum so bad."

he takes a second before answering, "i'm not sure you do," his tone is conniving as his fingers fasten. he truly was an evil, scheming son of a bitch. that knot in your stomach you were all too familiar with by now revived and you couldn't stop the sea of words that began flowing out, "please please please", "need you", "'want you to make me come, wally." hearing his name come out of mouth, so breathless and desperate, he finally decided to end your torture (and his considering the way his boxers felt impossibly tight and he was now rutting against the bed).

in a singular fluid motion, he had manoeuvred his arms around your thighs to force them apart against your instincts and began lapping at your juices. your hips grinded against his face while he ate you out like you were his favourite meal. you probably were. as his tongue fucked your needy hole, his nose brushed against your clit and it wasn't long before he was able to take you to the edge again. seeing you in this state, wally made every movement quicker and quicker until you could feel him vibrate. the sensation urged a moan to fall from your tongue and it only made the vibrations stronger. between his nose and his tongue, your clit and your hole, the vibrations, it all became too much. a wave crashed down, filling your entire body with ecstasy and relief. wally let you take a minute to come down as he wiped all your essence off his face with the back of his hand and took his shirt off.

you let yourself drink in his figure whilst he grabbed a condom from his bedside table before taking his pants and boxers off. you'd seen him shirtless during training before, but right now? the way his arms looked as he rolled the condom on himself and his abs contracted with every deep breath made you a lot more lustful than you'd like to admit. before he could try anything you managed to swap spots with him before kissing him again. as he kissed you back, you pushed him backwards onto the bed, so he leaned against the headboard whilst you moved your legs to either side of his. with a hand on his shoulder, you used your other to stroke his dick in slow motions. he bit your lip as his own way of telling you to go faster, but you decided to stop entirely only leaving your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. he pulled away from the kiss only to be met with your alluring smile.

"you're a jerk, you know that?" wally told you as he leaned his head backward and looked at the ceiling accepting his karma. you leaned into his ear, "not as much as you, babe" you whispered before sliding down onto him. the action made his head snap back and his hands grab onto your hips almost immediately. you had a hand flat on his chest and another on his abs as you slowly rocked back and forth to get better adjusted to his size. you thought he stretched you out last time? this position made you feel him deeper than you thought possible.

his grip on your skin got tighter as he began to gently rock your body faster until you decided to outdo his pace on your own. your nails began to dig into his chest. you could've drawn blood but wally couldn't have cared less. in truth, it probably made him even harder and if you weren't so blissed out you most likely would've felt it.

your body moved with unwavering passion, as wally moved a hand to the side of your slack jaw. he placed his thumb in your mouth and you were quick to suck on it with a flurry of muffled whimpers rising from your throat. the entire scene was pure euphoria to wally. your brows furrowed, lips wrapped around his fingers, nails digging into his skin and your body working so desperately to chase your own high. euphoria.

wally removed his finger from between the warmth of your lips and moved that same thumb down to your clit as he kissed you. the synchronicity of his actions made your head drown in pleasure, making you moan into the kiss. "shit, you're gripping me like a vice," he told you breathlessly between kisses, "look so good fucking yourself dumb on my cock." you would've spat a remark back at him, but he was right and there wasn't a thought in your head except for him.

wally let out a guttural groan when you pulsed around him and once again his hands were on your waist as he planted his feet on the bed. he started meeting your movements with hard and fast thrusts. every movement he made had you teetering over the edge, but when your face nestled into the crook of his neck and he whispered in your ear was all the push you needed to send you over the edge. "that's my girl," he spoke in drawn out words as he noted to memorise every movement you made. he watched the rise and fall of your chest and how the hands on his chest had softened as a wave of pure pleasure washed over your body. most importantly, he took note of the way you clenched around him making his movements falter.

it wasn't long before his orgasm followed suit and you could feel him twitch inside you. a groan escaped from his lips as he bought his forehead to rest against yours. the both of you were now a sweaty, exhausted mess and the aroma of sex became noticeable as he helped you up off of him. wally took a minute as he laid beside you before sliding the condom off him and placing it into a bin whilst slipping into his boxers. you noticed he went to collect your clothes and before he could hand them to you, you rolled your eyes, "don't tell me you're taking another souvenir."

"thanks for the reminder" he answered with a growing smirk plastered on his face.

[justagamerandaweeb]

"Mine." - Muzan x Chubby! Reader

"M-Muzan... P-Please..." (Y/N) mewled out as she tried to conceal her moans as Muzan was kissing and licking her neck, and touching her simultaneously. His warm tongue grazed (Y/N)'s neck as his hands were running through her half-naked body. His hands felt so firm every time he softly squeezed her skin, it made her breath hitch.

"It's too late to beg for forgiveness, my love. Who said that you could be around Douma? You should know how much I despise him when he's with you." He hushed that last part out in her ear, giving her goosebumps whenever he talked to her like this in her ear. "The way he speaks to others, the way he can get to their heads because of his temple, it makes me sick how gullible those mortals are to follow him." He grabs (Y/N)'s chin as he turns his head to face him as he says, "And it infuriates me whenever he talks to you, knowing that you belong to me."

(Y/N) opens her mouth as she was about to speak to him about her being with Douma, but was quickly silenced by him as he sticks his tongue inside her mouth, and seals his lips. (Y/N) whimpers as she felt his grip on her stomach get tighter, feeling his nails dig into her skin to where it hurt, but not where she bled. His tongue controlled her as her body started to fall limp, her legs fell lan​guid as she suddenly collapsed on her knees, but Muzan continued to lock his lips with her.

Muzan makes a deep purr that almost sounds like a growl as his hand starts to go up to her body and onto her bra. He clasped her cup and pulled it down to reveal her big and fluffy breast. He groped her breasts, resulting in her gasping for a brief moment before Muzan reconnected the kiss. She puled at his immediate action, but couldn't help but melt into his kiss. The way his tongue moved like a snake in her mouth, and their teeth briefly clashing against each other, made her body feel like jelly.

Muzan's hand began to move in a circular motion, feeling her skin return to its regular form every time he softly squeezed it. Muzan disconnected the kiss as he lowered his head down to (Y/N)'s neck, and felt him scrape his sharp fangs on her sensitive skin. She mewled at the touch of his canines touching her skin, as her thighs began to rub against each other, as well as her hands. "Muzan... I... I-I didn't mean to--" She let out a sharp gasp as she felt his teeth sink into her.

An audible shiver escaped (Y/N)'s lips as her head fell limp and it felt like all her muscles shut down the moment his teeth pricked her skin. He softly growled as he sunk his teeth into her, all while continuing to fondle her soft breast. (Y/N)'s face softly scrunches up in both pain and pleasure. Her body was paralyzed from how possessive and dominant he was, ensuring that everyone knew that she belonged to him.

He moved his head back to observe the action he performed on her, seeing the four bloody dots on her neck streaking down to her back as her breathing started to sound louder. A sadistic smile formed on his face as he began to lick the blood off of her back, and licked the puncture wounds that he caused, resulting in her evoking another whimper from her lips.

"You taste so pure... so... palatable." He purred into her ear as he gripped the back of her head, and pinned her down to the ground, leaving the bottom half of her body pointing upwards. "It makes me wanna ruin you even more." He whispered out in a lustful tone as (Y/N) heard the sound of her panties getting ripped.

He lets out a croaky chuckle against her ear as he gave her no time to prepare as he shoved his middle and ring finger inside her quim. (Y/N) makes a so​no​rous gasp as she felt his fingers bolt into her, not only that but as well breaking her maidenhead. Her pants were high-pitched, breathless, and rapid. Her leg muscles tensed up as she clamped her eyes closed to distract herself from the brief moment of throe.

Sounds of bleats and quivering breaths were drawn out, as she struggled to maintain her placidity due to her insides being so snug, even though Muzan wasn't even moving his fingers. "That's right, lose yourself to my fingers that are inside your pure, pink walls." Shortly after he said that, he started to move his fingers at such a ponderous rate, that he could feel her walls pulling his fingers back in.

"My, My. You wanted me to teach you a lesson, didn't you?" Muzan chuntered out as (Y/N) replied with a moan as she said, "N-No... I just wanted you to listen to me..." she whined out, her breath occasionally hitching as she tried to continue speaking. "I-I only stepped into Douma on accident. I-I wanted to avoid him, but he kept trying to talk to me. So that's why when you saw me talking to him, I was trying to tell him to go away." She stated as she evoked another whine from her lips.

Muzan softly hummed as he replied, "Well then, I guess I'll have to teach him a lesson. But, in the meantime..." he thrust his fingers back inside her, making her jolt her head straight up as he grabbed the back of her head and said, "...I'm gonna make sure that everyone knows who you belong to." And started to move his fingers.

Another set of bleats escaped (Y/N)'s lips as she felt the barreling pace of his fingers going in and out of her. The sounds of her moist lips, soaked from her secretions, were such a bawdy thing for the ears to hark. (Y/N) attempted to stifle a moan, but it was to no avail as his fingers felt like cloud nine. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip to distract herself from the pleasure.

However, it seemed that she had bitten her lip too hard as blood was seeping down her cheek, which resulted in Muzan licking it up. "I will never get tired of tasting you." He moves his hand to her cheek as he turns her head to face him, and he sucked on her bottom lip. (Y/N) girned at him sucking her bottom lip as he started to lick the spot of her lip that was bleeding.

He pecked her lips as he caressed her cheek with his thumb as he maundered, "Such a succulent taste, from such a small wound. Makes me yearn to see what you taste like. In fact..." he took his fingers out and saw that his fingers were drenched with discharge that was mixed with her claret. He opens and closes his fingers to see thin strings stretching and dissolving before he engulfs his fingers in his mouth.

His doing this made (Y/N) feel sheepish watching him consume her fluids. He slowly slowly slid his fingers back out, revealing them to be spotless of her substance. He softly hums in satisfaction as he critiques "Such a magnificent piquancy. I don't why I haven't done this the moment I took you in as my own. But now that I have," He then gets directly behind (Y/N) and firmly clapt his hands onto (Y/N)'s round fluffy cheeks, making her yelp as he courses his hands on both of them. "I am going enjoy this."

(Y/N) made a high-pitched croak as she felt him slowly caressing her backside, occasionally softly slapping it as well. He then spreads her out to reveal her asshole winking at him, and her thick and clammy majora. Muzan smirked as he slowly licked the top set of his teeth, and lowered his head closer until his nose was inches close to them. He softly blew air at the drenched lips, making (Y/N) slightly flinch at the cool breeze that was blown at her sensitive spot.

"P-Please..." Muzan heard (Y/N) shudder as he responded, "Please what?" (Y/N) lifted her upper body and looked back at Muzan as she stuttered out, "P-Please don't tease me any longer, Muzan..." The bridge of her nose turns into a peach-red complexion from saying that sentence. But, it was enough to incentivize him. His smirk transitioned into a smile as he said, "Don't worry, my darling, I'm gonna make you tremble by the time I'm done with you. Now, bend back down for me."

She lays her top half down on the ground and her body shook again as the first thing she felt was Muzan's thumb going up and down on her sensitive slit. "My my, you're so wet. Have my fingers stimulated you that much? Not saying that I enjoy that, of course..." A part wanted to tell Muzan to shut up, but another part of her knew that if she did, he would become rougher than her. She couldn't do anything but whine at him teasing her with his thumb.

Muzan chuckles at her feeble moans as he assures her, "Relax, my dear. If you want me to satisfy you that badly, you'll have to do something for me."

"Wh- What's that?"

"Tell me, who do you belong to?"

(Y/N) stammered at that question since she didn't want to say it out loud, but sighed as she stated, "Y-You, Muzan..." Muzan softly slapped her, making her yelp as he started to tease her with his index finger going inside her as he said, "I don't think I caught that, mind saying what you said louder?"

"You..." She exclaimed a little bit louder, "I-I belong to you, Muzan." She then felt another finger go inside her, making her whimper as she heard him say, "Good, now scream it out. Scream loud enough for everyone to hear it, and I will give you what you want."

She softly clenched her fists as she tried to deny his request, she tried to speak up, but it felt like her mind went blank as she felt him insert yet another finger inside her, stuffing her with three fingers inside her wet cunt. "Do it."

Tears started to streak down (Y/N)'s face as she clenched her eyes closed and bellowed, "P-PLEASE, MASTER KIBUTSUJI, USE ME TO THE POINT TO WHERE I CAN'T EVEN FORM SENTENCES! I'LL- I'LL TEND TO YOUR NEEDS, I'LL SUBMIT MYSELF TO YOU, J-JUST, DON'T TEASE ME FOR ANY LONGER, PLEASE!"

Muzan smiles at her depraved howls, so much so that it makes him laugh in a joyful tone. He takes his fingers out, seeing that they were soaked from her secretions, and he licked him clean. Shortly after he finished licking them, he takes both reverberated perched them onto (Y/N)'s soddened lips, and spread them out to reveal her pink folds and opening.

Such a scrumptious-looking body part. The female body can be such a blessing at times. "I won't waste any more time teasing you, now's the time for me to devour you." He said as he shoved his lips onto hers, resulting in her back slightly arching, and her mewling. "T-Thank you..."

Her toes immediately curled when she felt his tongue enter her, becoming a whining mess as she felt his tongue twisting around her rigid walls. She wasn't prepared for the amount of stimulation that was about to crash down on her, yet at the same time, she wasn't complaining due to how skilled he was at this.

Muzan looped his arms onto (Y/N)'s thighs as he continued to move and rub his tongue around her. He softly growled, sending soft vibrations throughout her body, making her breath hitch. "M-Muzan..." His breath felt so hot up against her sensitive cooze, it gave her chills every time he did a brief exhale to regain oxygen. "So... Good..." (Y/N) puled out as it felt like her muscles were shutting down one by one.

Muzan pulls his head back, his mouth and chin completely drenched from her, and grumbled as he sneered out, "It feels like I'm not getting enough. I need more. I desire more from you." He then grasped his hand onto (Y/N)'s waist, and twisted her entire body to her back, her breasts and stomach softly quivering when she made the sudden stop.

Muzan then prone on his stomach and put his hands on both of (Y/N)'s inner thighs as he closes his eyes and thoroughly licked (Y/N)'s cunt. She tried to cross her legs, but the way Muzan's hands were planted on her thighs made it impossible to even move. Her back arched as well as her neck as her mind was being electrocuted due to the amount of stimulation that was surging through her body.

"M-Mu...z-zan..." She reverberated out as she puts her hands on his curly black hair, and softly squeezed it, giving Muzan more vigor to satisfy her. He growls as tilts his head to the side, and begins to passionately kiss it like they were someone's mouth. (Y/N)'s breath started to become irrepressible, letting out very brief exhales and irregular yelps and moans. Tears started to form in her eyes again as she could feel her stomach tauten as she shouted out, "M-Muzan! I... I feel weird! M-My stomach...! I-Its...!"

Muzan then wraps his arms under (Y/N)'s legs, and lifted her lower half to the point to where her legs were dangling behind his back. Tears started to streak down her face again as she started to weep out cries of bliss as she was nearing her arrival. As Muzan was holding her thighs, hearing that (Y/N) was about to finish, he took one his hands and used his index and middle finger to slip inside her entrance, and twirl his tongue around her clit simultaneously.

(Y/N)'s breaths started to become brisk as she struggled to stifle the sounds of her whinges, but failed as she laid her head to the side and started to hyperventilate. She tried to hold herself together, trying not to make the knot in her stomach snap and release herself. But all that was quickly cast aside the moment she felt his fingers curl up and press on her G-spot, and her mind became blank.

She elicited a soundless scream as her toes curled up and she felt herself spritzing all over his chin and black top. The muscles of her slit would constrict at irregular patterns as her entire body was being shocked by overstimulation. It didn't help the fact that Muzan kept twirling his tongue and curling his finger up, pressing her spot, making her convulse at random.

(Y/N)'s hands started to slip off of Muzan's hair, her muscles finally stopped constricting as it felt like all her muscles shut down, leaving her as a trembling mess. Just like Muzan wanted. Muzan pecked at her button, and slowly slid his fingers out of her as he softly lowered her legs down to the floor and watched her body jolt. Her breath was trembling through every inhale and exhale she took, her eyes covered by her forearm while her other hand was on her left pec.

Muzan softly chuckled as he lays down next to her as he whispered in her ear, "How was that, my love? Did my actions satisfy you enough for you to understand who you belong to?" (Y/N) moved her forearm that was covering her eyes up, revealing them to be a light red color, and looks at him for a brief moment before she rolled to her side to hug him. Muzan wrapped his arm behind her back and softly caressed it as he said, "I'll take that as a yes."

They both stayed like this for a few moments, before Muzan tried to get up off of her so he can leave her be, but for some reason, he couldn't. "Hey, let me go." He said, but (Y/N) refused, only letting her grip on him get tighter. "I know you're not asleep, so you better let go before I punish you some more." (Y/N) softly groaned as Muzan's tone started to become more demanding. "Did you hear me? I said let me go, before I—"

The contact of (Y/N)'s lips connecting to Muzan's silence him as he made a sound of slight confusion as he felt (Y/N)'s tongue enter his mouth. (Y/N) rolls both of their bodies together, resulting in (Y/N) being mounted on top of Muzan. (Y/N) continued to kiss him, her face softly scrunched up while Muzan was slightly aroused. During his times of fornication, in both forms, he was never the one to be the receiver to these types of situations. But, this felt different. In a rather peculiar, but exciting way.

(Y/N) stops kissing her, a line of of their own oral fluids stretching between each other as her face was a red complexion. She was too into it now that she took the initiative and kissed him, and now she has to finish what she started. She then started to back up from him, grinding her sensitive minge on his clothes as she stopped at his legs, and look down to see a bulge the was protruding out of his pants. (Y/N) softly gulped before she took her hands, and attempted to unbuckle his pants.

Muzan couldn't help but watch (Y/N) struggle to take his belt off, not a moving a single muscle to rebel and make her know her place. He's Muzan Kibutsuji, The Demon King. And yet, here he is being pinned down by a big, supple, fluffy... beautiful... adorable human... I've never noticed... how... gorgeous her body is... Why am I now just realizing this...? He thought as he heard the sound of his belt being pulled off. (Y/N) then unbuttoned and zipped his pants and stood up a little so she could pull them down, and she witnessed his rod spring out.

The glans having a light rose color, while it's body was a pale pigmentation, much like the rest of his skin, and his pubic area didn't have a single shred of hair whatsoever. It was lengthy and girthy, curved upwards as well as veins that were tiddly, but very visible. (Y/N) had a hypnotized expression on her face, as she couldn't help but stare at his thick prick. Muzan tittered at her, but his eyes slowly went down to her stomach.

Her squeezable, kissable, face-layable stomach.

It was like his body moved in impulse as his arm reached for her, and touched her abdomen, making (Y/N) gasp and return to his senses. "Muzan, w-what are you—" "I can't stop looking at your stomach." He utters out as he sits up straight enough to give himself balance as he put his other hand on her, and started to softly squeeze it. "This... thing... this part of your body... its making me feel emotions I've never thought possible. It's so... tender... so... divine..." he then lower his head down as he started to flood it with pecks and kitty licks.

(Y/N) didn't know whether to feel happy or confused, or maybe even both. Muzan has never said anything like this to her before, so it made her wonder if this is a trick, or if this was coming from what he was feeling. "I need you... I want to mark you as my own... And the way I can do it..." he then lifts his head up and got close to (Y/N)'s ear as he huskily whispered, "...is for me to breed you."

Before (Y/N) could get a chance to react, he pushed her down to the floor, and spread her legs out with his knees. His hands next to both sides of her head as (Y/N) was looking at his depraved expression. His eyes were half-lidded, and steam huffing out of his mouth as he took one of his hands, and ripped his black shirt off, revealing his sinewy build, and his scars.

(Y/N)'s pupils dilated at the scenery of his body. Sure he was a demon, but that didn't mean that he looked so attractive, and looked so wicked due to his scars. It was no wonder why (Y/N) never saw him without his top on. "I'm gonna make sure you will be full of my seed the moment I finish inside you..." Muzan hissed out as he wrapped his arms around her, and picked her up with little to no effort.

She wrapped her legs around him, so she wouldn't fall so easily, and put her hands on his shoulders so she wouldn't arch her back so much to the point where it would hurt her spine. Muzan softly laughed as he praised her, "Good girl. And I didn't have to tell you to do that. Now..." he gave her a soft bounce as she felt his hands gripping on her haunches, as she felt his tip grazing her lips.

"I'm gonna make you scream." Muzan hushed out as he slowly lowered (Y/N) down on his shaft, and slowly felt himself entering inside her snatch. Muzan uttered a deep groan while (Y/N) elicited a high whimper. Feeling his long, thick manhood filling her at every inch. Her breath started to tremble again as her nails started to dig into Muzan's skin, but it didn't affect him in the slightest. Muzan continued to lower her down on him, stifling a moan every time he felt her clench around him. "You're so tight, even when I used my fingers on you. That's an interesting feat to have during situations like this, and I'm going to take advantage at that."

He then started to move his hips up and down, only being half inside her, and stretching her rigid walls. She laid her head on his chest as the sounds of pleasure escaped her lips. They way he was thrusting his hips, made her entire body bounce. She closed her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, moaning into his ear and mewling out his name.

"It f-feels good, Muzan..." she yipped out as Muzan kissed her clavicle and her neck as he responded, "Glad you feel that way, my darling." He continued to lick and kiss (Y/N)'s neck, not leaving a single inch go untouched with his tongue as (Y/N) softly cried in elation from Muzan's rod. "So... Good..." Muzan huskily growled out as he started to sync her hips onto his, shoving his entire length into her, and hitting every spot possible.

His breathing slowly transitioned to groans as he began to have more of a firm grip on (Y/N)'s cheeks, and she had a snug grip on him. "F-Fuck..." He uttered out as he started to bare his fangs out again. Him smelling his scent of his saliva on her neck, made him shiver a little, he was like an animal, marking its mate with its redolence. He then scrapped his canines onto her neck, despite the face that he punctured the right side of her neck with four holes, and bit down on her.

(Y/N) gasped when he bit her, but it didn't hurt as much like last time. He was being careful with her, not biting down too hard to the point where she bled, but rather making the bite visible for others to see. Muzan emitted a groan, sending palpitations on her skin. He stopped biting down on her skin and pecked at the bite mark he created as he then wrapped his arms around her and started to crouch down. He got on his knees, and slowly leaned back to the floor to where (Y/N) was on top of him.

Muzan puts his hands on her hips, and began to move to hips more, all while moving his hips simultaneously. "You feel so much tighter in this position... Its like you want me to release my spunk inside you..." he said, lifting his head up for him to kiss her. (Y/N) closed her eyes as she intertwined with Muzan's lips and not long enough, his tongue. Their tongues danced with each other as they both moaned into each other's mouths and trembled with every thrust they performed on each other.

They both separated each other as Muzan started to move his hips at a breakneck pace, making (Y/N)'s voice becoming more louder, and her cries becoming more lewd. "M-My stomach's getting tighter again... Are you getting close too, Muzan?" Muzan was about to deny the fact that he was nearing his arrival, but then felt his muscles getting narrow as he was thrusting. He felt his shaft twitiching inside her. "Yes my dear. I'm getting close too."

(Y/N) cups Muzan's face as she softly spoke out, "Make me pregnant, Muzan." And locked lips with him. His eyes slightly widened when he heard those words come out of his mouth. But those words were enough for something inside him to snap. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and thrusted his hips as rough as he could be, making such smutty noises as their genitalia clash each other. Her cheeks rippled with every thrust he made as her moans were reverberated in his mouth as she felt the knot in her stomach get tighter.

Shortly after, (Y/N) was the first to finish as she gushed her juices all over his pelvis, as her cunt was constricting and her body was convulsing. Muzan's moans started to become growls as with every thrust, he felt himself get closer and his leg muscles started to become tense. Fuck, even after she came, she's so tight... I'm.. Not gonna last... much... Muzan grabbed her waist and slammed her down one final time as he made a heavy exhale through his nose as he felt himself ejaculating his seed inside her, making (Y/N) shiver as she felt his warm load fill her.

Muzan's hips jolted occasionally as (Y/N)'s walls were trying to milk him for all of his sperm stored inside his cullions. They both dropped dead as Muzan had his hand on (Y/N)'s back, and (Y/N) was laying on Muzan's chest. She was breathing profusely while While he was letting out brief nose exhales. They both laid there, soaking in what transpired. "That was... amazing..." (Y/N) cooed out as her breathing was getting quieter and she was making long soft pants. "Yeah, I guess it was. But now, if anyone wants to press you, they'll have to see the bite marks I put on you."

(Y/N) hummed as her eyes started to get heavy. She couldn't keep herself from being awake so before she succumbed to her tiredness, she said, "I... Love you..." and passed out, softly snoring on his chest. It felt like all his hearts stopped for a brief moment, almost as if he felt like a human again. He softly smiles as he whispers, "I love you too, my darling." And kissed her hair.

Oh, and also, I had a different cover for this chapter, but one of my friends on Discord said it wouldn't work with the title.

I greyed everything out except the eyes, pretty cool, but I think the one up top fits the title better.

✌️👋❤️.

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie's gorgeous ex-girlfriend arrived with a proposition, and when he was hesitant to refuse it, everything the two of you have been holding back boiled over. (4.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, panic attack, vomiting, parental conflict, poverty, insecurities, secret relationship, sexual fantasies, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @word-wytch for helping me with Eddie's mannerisms 💚

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter fourteen: burned

Babe.

She called him ‘babe,’ that one word laced with more than friendliness. There was a history behind it, a sultriness, all of it seeming so natural.

There was no air left to breathe; of this, you were almost certain. Your lungs constricted around nothing, shoved tight behind your ribs with nowhere to expand. 

She called him babe. And she kissed him. 

On the cheek, on the lips—it didn’t matter. She had kissed him and it didn’t sound like he’d attempted to stop her. Nor had he corrected her when she’d called the motel a shithole. His ex-girlfriend showed up and called your home–and his–a shithole, and he’d all but agreed with her.

And she called him babe.

You were going to be sick, your head spinning from the myriad emotions coursing through it. Anger, frustration, confusion, sadness, and envy stirred up a fatal cocktail that had you retching into the wastebasket next to the desk.

A door swung open, and you prayed that it was Mom or Dad, already formulating a believable reason as to why you were suddenly throwing up. Must’ve eaten something that disagreed with me; I’ll be fine–

“Heiress?”

Of course it was Eddie. Of course. His footsteps got faster as he heard you throwing up, barely audible through the blood pulsing in your ears. Before you knew it, he was crouching down beside you, one hand gently stroking your back, your shirt now soaked through with sweat.

You wrenched away, shrugging off his touch and wiping your lips. “Don’t touch me.” Your voice was hoarse from sickness and hurt.

Eddie flinched at your gruff demeanor, toppling backwards onto his jean-clad bottom with a soft oof. “Heiress, it’s fine. I’m not afraid of a little–”

“No!” You found your emotional footing, grounding yourself in anger rather than shaking it off. The last thing you needed was for him to see you as vulnerable. Even worse, pitiful. “Leave me alone.”

You couldn’t look at him without seeing her, so beautiful and badass. Everything he wanted and more. Had he blushed when she kissed him? Had his hand slid around her waist to pull her closer, to breathe in her perfection? The thought sent your stomach roiling, and it took a mountain of force to keep from getting sick again.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “I can get you some ginger ale, o-or some water–”

You shook your head subtly lest you rouse another round of nausea. “I said leave me alone,” you said through gritted teeth. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and you were disgusted with yourself for wishing he would kiss them away. “I’m fine.”

Babe. With a kiss.

“At least let me take out the trash.”

“Can you just fucking go?” You whirled around to finally face him, your heart momentarily lurching at his recoil. “You can probably still catch up with your girlfriend. She just left.”

“My…” Eddie cocked his head with a naivety that had you simultaneously wanting to comfort and smack him. “Who, Fiona?”

Logically, you knew she had a name, but hearing him say it still made everything worse. Fiona. 

“Yeah, her,” you spat. Just because you knew her name didn’t mean you had to say it.

A disbelieving chuckle escaped Eddie’s lips, half-hearted in its landing. “She’s not my girlfriend, Heiress.” His voice had a prickly edge to it, and it made you feel slightly less guilty about your own snappiness. 

“Did you tell her that?” Frustration flamed behind your eyes. “Because I heard her call you ‘babe’ and give you a kiss.”

You summoned all of your strength and pushed yourself up to standing. Eddie followed suit, though he didn’t need to lean on the desk to keep himself upright like you did. 

“Christ.” He raked his fingers through his curls. “It was a kiss on the cheek. It’s not like we were frenching in the hallway.”

The visual alone might have sent you back to the trash can, but you held your composure. What was left of it, anyway. 

“And what about her calling you ‘babe’?”

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets, an act of innocence. “Probably just out of habit from when she was…y’know…”

My girlfriend. He didn’t need to say the words aloud; you filled in the blanks without any assistance. 

“But you didn’t correct her.” You were being petty, and while you hated yourself for it, you also couldn’t stop it. A dam had been broken, and the rupture unleashed all of the frustration and confusion that you’d kept bottled up. 

From outside, a car blared its horn loud enough to startle you. Eddie brought his hand out to comfort you, almost instinctively, before he remembered you were mid-argument and let it drop to his side. 

“Honestly,” he exhaled, “I wasn’t really paying attention when she said that.”

Your stomach soured. If he wasn’t listening to the words she was saying, then what was his mind occupied with? Images of him stampeded through your head: Eddie lusting over bow-shaped lips, the subtle swell of her breasts beneath her tank top, the way her denim miniskirt emphasized the curve of her ass…all while you stood behind the desk none the wiser. 

You shoved the implication aside. “Why was she here? How did she even know you were here?”

Eddie’s nails scratched along the desk, the only sound for a few seconds until he spoke again. “I talked to her after they did their show at Webster Hall.” 

How could you have forgotten that show—the one he was at the night someone vandalized Eisen’s. 

“I told her where I was staying, gave her the room number. She took a chance and stopped by tonight.”

“For what?” You quickly assessed his clothes; nothing seemed to be rumpled or unbuttoned that would indicate any below-the-belt activities. 

Eddie caught your eyes roving his body, and not in the hungry, desire-filled way you had looked at him earlier today. 

“She asked me to rejoin the band,” he said quietly. “They want me back for their tour.” 

Rejoin the band for their tour. If the tabloid article was accurate, that meant he’d be leaving within the next few weeks. 

Your silence spoke volumes. Eddie huffed out a laugh thick with venom. “Wow, thanks for your enthusiasm. Really amps up my excitement.”

“It’s just…a lot to process.” You picked at your lower lip, the bit of dry skin suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. “Do they want you back permanently? Or just until Caleb Dalton gets out of rehab?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped back, protecting an open wound. “What are you talking about? Who’s going to rehab?”

Shit. You screwed your eyes shut, but there was no more feigning ignorance. He had to know the truth, and you had to be the one to break it to him. 

And so you told him everything: the public intoxication arrest, the rehab stay, the threat it posed to the band’s future. When he asked how you knew all of this, you were honest about that, too. 

“So, wait.” Eddie held up his forefinger to stop you, though you’d already run out of words to say. “You knew about this stuff since our first date? And then you read the article today? And you never thought to tell me about any of it?” 

Shame snaked its way through your veins, heating you from the inside. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes, and you forced yourself to blink them back. You knew you should have told him; maybe not during that first date, but certainly in the days following. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t had the opportunity. Even spotting that article this afternoon brought up the perfect moment. 

But you’d let your cowardice take over, and now you were paying the price.

“I wasn’t sure what to say.” It was a pathetic excuse, and you both knew it.

Eddie raked his fingers through his hair, snagging them on a knotted curl. “How about, ‘hey, Eddie, did you hear about what’s going on with your old band?’ Or you could’ve come right out with it, something like, ‘your replacement is in rehab, just so you know.’” He shook his head in stunned disbelief, his nostrils flaring with each word. “Anything, Heiress. Anything!”

You winced at his increasing volume. “Eddie, maybe we should talk about this another–”

“No!” He hissed through gritted teeth. “No, I’m so fucking sick and tired of waiting. Waiting for you to tell your parents about us, waiting for another big break, waiting for something to finally go right for once in my stupid life!” He slammed his fist on the desk, rattling the old wood and your nerves, veins pulsing in his forearm. “I’m such a goddamn idiot. I should’ve been saving up every penny to get back home, but I stuck around here for…for someone who doesn’t give a shit about me.”

Every part of you ached to refute that statement, to insist that you did care about him. But it wouldn’t be of any use; he’d already made up his mind that he meant nothing to you. And what did you have to disprove him? The way fear kept you from telling your parents the truth? The constant sneaking around to avoid the inevitable confrontation that came with them discovering the real relationship between you and Eddie?

“And every time I ask you about it, it’s always ‘soon,’ or ‘I’m going to.’” Eddie continued, his jaw twitching as he inhaled. “I might as well be back in high school, hooking up with cheerleaders behind their boyfriends’ backs, acting like nothing happened between us.” He looked at you with utter disgust. “At least they had a decent excuse. You’re just selfish.”

“Selfish?” Of all of the words used to describe you, good or bad, selfish hadn’t ever been one of them. “I’m…no, I’m not–”

The scent of stale cigarette smoke choked you. “Well, what would you call it, then? What would you call stringing me along while you weave your little web of lies?” He leaned in, though there was no need with how loud he was speaking. “I thought we were a team, Heiress. And a damn good one at that. But you were playing by yourself this whole fucking time.”

Your throat went dry, your body hollow. You were selfish. You spent so much time worried about the potential backlash that you never considered how he felt. 

Eddie didn’t stop, not even when the tears rolled down your cheeks. “You know what I think?” He pressed his lips into a thin line, like he knew he should suppress what he was about to say but no longer could hold back. “I think you can’t handle people following their dreams when you’re too scared to follow yours. I think you liked having me here because that meant I wasn’t out there trying to be a ‘superstar.’” He hooked his fingers to make air-quotes. 

“But I’m done with your games, Heiress. I’m done pretending to just be the handyman you happen to get along with. I’m done with you.”

A response, a retort, a poignant Fuck off all stayed lodged in your throat. Only the sound of a door swinging open echoed through the motel. 

Shit. Your parents. They must’ve woken up from the arguing and—

“What the hell is going on out here?” Phyllis’s rough, irritated voice called out. Her robe was half-open, the top of one freckled breast visible. She had her trusty bat raised, ready to fight, but when she saw the commotion was only you and Eddie, her posture loosened. “Jesus Christ, I thought someone was trying to…never mind.” She shook her head and scowled. “If you two don’t learn to keep it down, then I’ll just have to be louder.”

You and Eddie normally would have laughed and shot back a cheeky comment, but neither of you mustered up a joke. Phyllis had already turned back around to her room, figuring out how to salvage her client’s evening after the interruption. 

“I’m leaving anyway,” Eddie grumbled. The tips of his ears were pink from the sheer heat of his anger. 

“Leaving? Like, for good?” Your voice was so tiny that you barely heard it, and you were surprised that he did. Even more surprised that he didn’t pretend not to hear it and keep walking away. 

He sighed with the weight of the world. “Yeah, Heiress. For good.” He turned back to face you one last time, a serpentine bite in his tone. “And for what it’s worth, I liked when Fiona called me ‘babe.’ It was nice hearing someone say it without checking their surroundings first.”

So he had noticed it—the way you made sure your parents weren’t around before calling him a pet name or pressing a kiss to his waiting lips. You weren’t as subtle as you’d hoped, and he’d picked up on it. 

Eddie held his same stoic expression as he watched your face fall, your posture slumping in total defeat. His words were cruel, but they didn’t lack truth. And it didn’t mean you were ready to hear them. 

“Fuck you,” you said weakly. You no longer cared if he saw you cry. Shame over vulnerability couldn’t hold a candle to the loss you already felt, though he was still standing in front of you. “Just…fuck you. I should’ve left you on that bench.”

“Then who would be your charity case?” His brown eyes, usually soft and comforting, teasing, or filled with lust, held only rage now. “Who would you pretend to give a shit about?”

Insecurity chipped away at your minimal resolve to stay upright as you wondered what kind of eyes Fiona saw tonight. 

“Do you…” you sniffled, wishing you would just wake up and realize the whole argument was a dream. “Do you really think this was all pretend for me?”

Eddie paused for a moment, actually considering the possibility. Its mere feasibility was another dagger through your already broken heart. 

“Honestly, Heiress,” he finally said, “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

He left you in stunned silence, only the sounds of boulevard traffic filling the air. Life had been sucked out of the lobby, leaving it devoid of the lightheartedness it only began holding when Eddie came around. 

Before him, before that night, you were alone. You were lonely. It had only been two months since then, yet you found it impossible to remember a time before him. Tonight felt like the first time you’d ever spent a shift by yourself. 

What if you followed him back down the hall? What if you took his hand and held it, promising not to let go until you told your parents about the relationship? What if you peppered his face with kisses until his anger melted into something resembling forgiveness?

The young woman who you’d been on his first night in the motel would roll her eyes at the mess you’d become. She would have told you not to waste your efforts on a man, especially one who was so obviously a temporary fixture in your life. Dating a guest? One who had no connections to the city? It was destined for failure from the start. 

Maybe it was best if you let him be for the evening. Give him some time to cool down. Not to mention, you’d be leaving the desk unmanned if you followed him, and what a way that would be to break the news to your parents. 

Sorry I abandoned my job; I was just trying to keep my secret relationship with Eddie from ending. Did I mention that Uncle Mo and Aunt Tam caught up making out in the park?

Eddie didn’t leave his room for the rest of the night. You sighed with relief at six A.M. when Dad took the desk and there was no sign of Eddie. 

He probably fell asleep, you reasoned as you changed into your pajamas. I’ll talk to him when I wake up and we’ll work it out. 

You were done hiding your feelings. 

As you tumbled into bed, the weight of exhaustion somehow heavier than your guilt, you mentally sketched out your apology. No, it was more than an apology; it was a promise. A promise to proudly be his girl no matter who was watching. A promise to give him your heart with no stipulations. A promise to be the team he thought you always were. 

For the first time in a long time, you awoke before your alarm. Nerves fluttered in your belly as you got dressed. You threw on the nearest clean clothes you could find, lest you wimp out before you even left the room. 

Eddie, I’m so sorry. It’s me and you. I want it to be me and you. I’ll tell my parents about us right now so we don’t have to hide, because…I love you, Eddie Munson. I love the way you always pat your pocket for your cigarettes and lighter before you go anywhere. I love the way your tongue pokes out whenever you’re focused. I love the way you hold me, like I’m safe as long as you’re around. 

And then you’d kiss him, soft and slow, losing yourself in his touch with the intention of never again leaving him behind. 

Knock knock. 

No answer. 

Knock knock knock. 

Again, nothing. 

You waited for a few minutes—or maybe it was only a couple of seconds. Time crawled as you waited for him to answer. 

“Eddie?”

Silence. 

“Eddie?” One more, but louder. Loud enough to catch Dad’s attention from the lobby. 

Dad’s brows knit together. “Eddie left this morning around 6:30. He didn’t tell you?”

Dread rose in your esophagus and almost had you hurtling towards the trashcan again. 

Of course he left. Why wouldn’t he? What did he have to stay for? Did you actually expect him to give up the opportunity to tour for a life of motel repairs, subway station guitar shows, and a girlfriend afraid to have a public relationship?

“I assumed he told you…” The wrinkles in Dad's forehead became more pronounced with confusion. 

You cleared your throat and faked a laugh. “Oh, right. I must’ve forgotten.” You gave yourself a little bop on the head as if to say, silly me! “I, uh, should probably clean his room.”

Dad nodded and said something about the washing machine acting up, and to be cognizant of laundry load size. And despite what you now knew, your first instinct was to ask Eddie to fix it. 

Room four still smelled like his drugstore cologne and his cigarettes. In fact, that coupled with the used ashtray and the unmade bed were the only evidence that Eddie had been here at all. That this man hadn’t been a figment of your imagination for the past few months. 

Your eyes roved the room for something—anything—to indicate a hint of forgiveness from him. Something to tell you this leave was only temporary. Maybe a note or even the phone number of where he’d be staying. 

Probably with Fiona. 

Your lungs struggled for air, tightening with each shallow breath. You couldn’t reach your room fast enough. 

You pictured the two of them sharing a bed, limbs intertwined. He’ll look at her with love and desire: the talented badass girl he truly wanted. That he’d ever wasted time with someone who was quick to confront a stoned stranger but couldn’t lie to her parents would be a blip on his dating radar; a lapse in judgment he’d one day laugh off. 

If he wasn’t already laughing at you. 

July arrived a few weeks later with near-literal roaring flames. 

Independence Day brought a few extra guests to the motel, mostly young couples who booked last-minute getaways to see the Macy’s fireworks display. Raw envy bared its teeth with each affectionate touch and stolen kiss, and you’d had to hold back a biting remark every time you saw an exchange of intimate gestures. 

You and Eddie could have taken a moment to watch the fireworks display, his arms wrapped around you and his chin on your shoulder as colors lit up the sky. 

Heat came the week after. 

It ripped through the city; even the local weatherman’s warnings didn’t fully capture just how stifling it would be. 

A line of perspiration trickled down your back as you folded towels and placed them on the closet shelf. 

Mom was at the desk, a battery-operated oscillating fan doing its best to keep her cool. It stopped mid-rotation, and she smacked it to start it up again.

“Dad didn’t get the big one?” The batteries must nearly be drained after use for days on end. The corded one would be better, and would last longer than one reliant on batteries. 

Mom shook her head. “That thing sucks up electricity like a monster,” she said. “No use running up the bill over it. I’ll just pick up new batteries later.”

The mention of the motel’s financial decline sliced you open, and you quickly tried to patch the wound with a distraction. 

“I can go now.” Before Mom could protest, you plucked your wallet from your room. It was brutally hot outside, the humidity enveloping you the moment you opened the front door. But anything was better than staying home and creating imaginary scenarios where Eddie would come from around the corner, wearing his signature smirk. 

In some of your wilder daydreams, he wore little else. 

Outside wasn’t much better than inside, especially with the sun beating down, but a breeze blew by every so often that provided some relief. Kids played in the street, opening fire hydrants and splashing around. They had no reverence for the beauty of childhood summers. Not yet—that would come with time, when opportunities to cherish that innocence were solidly in the past. 

You and Ben used to play like that, your parents peering out of the motel window every so often to make sure you were both still there, still safe. Always looking out for you, even as you stretched into your teenage years and craved independence. 

You should call Ben and meet up again. Maybe invite Nora, too. They’d take your mind off of your never-ending and ever-growing list of mistakes. 

The trip to the convenience store was for naught, the cashier informing you that they were sold out of everything except for watch batteries. Same went for the next two stores you tried. Apparently everyone’s portable fans decided to crap out on the same day. 

Resignedly, you trudged back to the motel. Maybe you could convince Mom to use the corded fan, or at least tell you where it had been stashed so you could set it up during your shift. 

All thoughts of fan whereabouts disappeared when you got back to the motel and saw Mom and Dad standing at the desk. Dad kept his head down as though inspecting the scratched wood. Mom was the one glaring at you, an open envelope clutched in her hand. It bore a violet emblem on the top left-hand corner. 

“What is this?” She phrased it as a question, but her clenched jaw told you that she already knew the answer. 

“I-I don’t—”

Mom shook her head. “No. Don’t tell me you don’t know why you got a tuition bill from NYU.” She glanced once more at the logo. “From the Silberman School of Social Work, actually.”

You said nothing. Ever since Admitted Students’ Day, you always made sure to be around when the mail arrived. The one day you left, it arrived without warning. 

Dad spoke your name in a breath. “How did you get into a social work program if you majored in hospitality?”

And then there was that. No lie, no matter how tangled the web, could explain the cold, hard proof in front of them. 

Words poured out of you, barely giving you moments to breathe. 

“I meant to tell you–I wanted to tell you. It’s just…you’ve been counting on me to take over the motel. I never wanted to let you down.” Despite your assumption that you’d depleted your reservoir of tears over Eddie, your throat tightened with the beginnings of a crying jag. “I just want to help people.”

Mom’s fist clenched around the envelope. “And how is this helping us?” She opened her mouth to speak again, but Dad gently placing his hand over hers temporarily silenced her.

“You lied to us,” Dad said. “You lied, and then you kept lying.”

“I know.” Your voice was so small that you could barely hear it. Or maybe that was because of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

“You know.” Mom scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, how nice of you to be so self-aware.” She let out a disbelieving laugh. “So what did you major in? And how did that lead you to one of the most expensive schools in the city?”

You told them everything–the decision to study psychology, the graduate school fair that you’d attended, the student representative you’d spoken to who assured you that you’d make an excellent candidate for their Masters program. And lastly, you told them that the program requirements would prevent you from working at the motel starting next month.

Mom stayed angry, her eyes narrowed, biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from interrupting you. But Dad…

He was slightly hunched over and unsettlingly quiet. You’d almost rather he’d be yelling, or at least hurling his feelings toward you like Mom was.

He looked at Mom when he finally spoke, but his words cut you with a serrated edge. “We can’t pay for a new employee. And we need a third person to run the place, unless you and I want to split twelve hour days–”

“No. I–I’ll fix this.” There was no way that your aging parents would be working over eighty hours a week. “I won’t go to NYU. I’ll call them right now and see if I can rescind my acceptance, and then I’ll cancel my student loans.”

“Do you really think we can trust you after all of this?” Mom’s shouting startled you, but your flinching didn’t deter you. “And let me guess–you have some part in Eddie leaving, too?”

Now that you weren’t expecting. The pause between Mom’s question and your nod gave her all of the information she needed.

“Let me get this straight,” she seethed. “You pick a major that has nothing to do with hospitality. You apply to and then accept an offer to a graduate program that means you can’t support the family business. You don’t tell us a word about any of this, so we’re sitting around like idiots instead of planning accordingly. And then,” she pointed her finger at you, “when we do find someone to help out around here, you strike up an inappropriate relationship that I told you would end badly.”

Dad’s teary eyes met yours. “How could you do this to us?” Once again, his whisper was a knife.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t bother to wipe your cheeks, knowing they’d stay damp until you couldn’t cry any longer. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 

Your brain throbbed against your skull, the forming pounding headache distracting you from the flickering lights. Everything was blurred anyway.

Mom noticed–she always noticed when something was awry, even if she couldn’t pinpoint its exact cause. “Great, now the bulbs are going.”

“I’ll get some new ones.” You’d pay for them yourself if you had to; you wouldn’t dare touch any of the money in the register. “I’ll go out right now and–”

The lights flickered once more, only this time, they didn’t go back on. The hum of electricity died out in an instant. You poked your head out of the front door, heart sinking as you saw the other business owners doing the same thing. The block was quiet except for the exchange between a flour-covered pizzeria worker and the cashier of the ninety-nine cent store:

“Is yours out, too?”

“Sure is.”

An overwhelming stillness encompassed the neighborhood. There was no hum of air conditioning coming from any of the other businesses. Traffic lights had gone dark, drivers slowing to a crawl upon the realization that there was neither a red, yellow, nor green indicator. A glance down the street at the high-rise office buildings, their windows suspiciously void of their usual overhead lighting, told you that the rest of the city wasn’t faring any better.

A blackout. In the middle of the hottest week of the summer.

In more ways than one, you were totally and completely powerless.

--

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[sweetfushi]

ASKING HIM IF HE STILL LOVES YOU

fluff, hurt/comfort | yuta okkotsu x reader, established relationship, yuta is so in love with you.

“Yuta,” you practically whine, watching him tense at the sound of his name falling from your lips. "Do you still love me?"

His brow furrows. “Oh baby, what’s making you ask such a question?” Yuta turns his attention away from fixing his hair to making his way over to your curled up form on the bed. “Of course I love you. I love you more than I thought was capable of myself.”

You shiver in delight when he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear and presses a chaste kiss to your neck. “Hm?” he encourages, his arm encircling your waist for his large palm to rest on your stomach.

“I dunno,” you shrug. “I just feel weird.”

“Weird how?” He inquires, tightening his grip on you as he lifts you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck as your legs wrap around his hips.

“Just wanna hear you say it,” you mumble, feeling his hands rub up and down your back. He rocks you in his arms for a moment as you tell him summaries of how you feel, him nodding along or whispering a small go on to indicate that he's still listening. During this, Yuta sits on the edge of the bed and has you straddle him, letting his right hand gently guide you to face him.

He kisses your right eyelid first. "Let me know what I can do for you," then kisses your left. You flush from the attention you know you'll never get accustomed to, especially not when he treats you with such tenderness and consideration. Sometimes you feel as though you don't deserve it.

"Now what's that look?" He laughs softly, catching your awkward expression.

"Can I, um, have another hug?"

Yuta grins and kisses your lips before embracing you tightly. "Of course, baby." The cool notes of his skin feel oddly but familiarly comforting when in touch with your body heat. He's always joked that it's ironically reflective of you in that you initially had trouble opening up to him, whereas he was very warm and patient with you. You still feel guilty at how uncertain about him you used to be.

After two minutes of heart-warming silence, you sigh. Yuta doesn't release you however, but pulls you down on top of him as he lays back on the bed. You laugh breathily at his sudden clinginess, but don’t complain. If anything, you need him to reciprocate your neediness to assure you that you’re not a bother - despite the fact that he has reminded you many times that you are not and never will be.

"You wanna get takeout? Watch a movie?" He suggests, feeling you relax at the idea and simultaneously appear ecstatic at the idea from the way you sit up and nod your head rapidly.

Yuta loves you in whatever form you present yourself to him, but your happiness was particularly endearing. As you listed your food and movie recommendations, his thumbs rubbed gentle, soothing circles into your hips, eventually leading his hands to wander lower and grip your love handles. You can tell he's not fully focused on your rambling from the way his eyes sparkle and his lips seem permanently twitched into a smile.

You swallow thickly at his expression of utter adoration for you, holding eye contract with him until you don't. Somehow, you find the strength to conceal your squeals of embarrassment as you climb off of him and reach over to the bedside table to grab his phone.

"Huuuh, why'd you get off? I can order for us." It's now his turn to whine and cling to you, until he sees your avoidance of eye contact and a poorly-hidden smile.

When you start to feel his burning gaze again, you slap his shoulder and shove a pillow on his face, smothering him and his laughter in it.

"I need this food to arrive before you eat me first."

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).